


special occasion

by wincestgoddess



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dialogue Heavy, Ficlet, Fluff and Humor, M/M, Mostly Dialogue, Soft Dean Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-15
Updated: 2020-12-15
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:15:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28083033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wincestgoddess/pseuds/wincestgoddess
Summary: Dean treats Sam to a nice hotel room for a change
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester
Comments: 5
Kudos: 131





	special occasion

“How come we’ve never done this before?”

“I’m not made of money, you know.”

“No, but Mr. Wallace is.”

“Heh, we really hit the jackpot with that bozo.”

“Why don’t we swipe credit cards from rich guys more often?”

“I’m sorry, is this the same guy that feels guilty surfing porn?”

“That was one time! Are you ever gonna let it go?”

“Not really. Big brothers don’t let go of blackmail material.”

“Big brothers don’t try and fuck their little brothers.”

“Whoa, whoa! Try? I’m pretty sure I always succeed.”

“Is that what happened last night?”

“We do _not_ talk about last night.”

“...You chose Game of Thrones over my ass.”

“Sam!”

“You did!”

“I didn’t know there was gonna be a marathon on TV. I work hard all day, I deserve to come home to some peace and quality entertainment.”

“Well, it will be the only entertainment you’ll be getting for the next week or so.”

“Aw, don’t be like that, Sammy. I booked us the honeymoon suite just for you.”

“No, I’m pretty sure you did it for the minibar and mini cocktails.”

“...There’s mini cocktails?”

Getting off of what was, in Sam’s opinion, the most comfortable bed he’d ever been in, Dean went straight for the minibar. 

“We’re drinking these.”

“You know they charge you.”

“So? It’s Wallace’s treat. C’mon Sammy, live a little.”

“You never answered my question.”

“What? Why don’t we steal more cards from rich dudes? It’s gotta be a once in a year kind of luxury. Low profile at all times, remember?”  
  
“No, not that. What I asked you in the car when you refused to tell me what the big surprise was.”

“And were you surprised or what? Admit it, I’m awesome.”

“It’s certainly better than the alternative. I was afraid you were taking me to a strip club.”

“Sammy, you know I don’t do that anymore. Only girl I wanna watch take her clothes off to a slow song is you.”

One of the fluffiest pillows to ever grace this earth flew right over Dean’s head, gaining a grumble from his brother about damn hunter reflexes.

Grinning to himself, Dean put the mini bottles back into the fridge and crept up behind Sam where he was sprawled over the bed. Grabbing a bare, tantalizing ankle, he tugged the other closer as he took his rightful spot on the bed next to the giant glaring at him. 

“I’m not giving you a lap dance to Warrant’s Cherry Pie.”

“Not what I was gonna say but good to know you’d willingly crush one of my most cherished fantasies.”

Faking a sigh, Dean smashed his hand over Sam’s mouth, effectively cutting off whatever the younger man was about to say. Not even a second after, he pulled it away with a grimace.

“Don’t slobber all over my hand, man!”

“Well don’t shut me up, jerk.”

“You want me to answer your stupid question or not?”

“It’s not my birthday. Or yours.”

“Sweetheart if it was my birthday we’d be celebrating quite differently right now.”

“So we _are_ celebrating.”

“Well, yeah. Sort of. I mean, why else would I book the honeymoon suite of a fancy hotel? Minibar included, apparently.”

“Gonna tell me what’s the special occasion, then?”

A flicker of doubt flashed in bright green eyes. Hazel ones were perceptive and immediately caught on. 

A brief downward glance and the familiar weight of Sam’s hand squeezing his own went by unacknowledged. It grounded him; it gave him time to collect his thoughts. It was a comfort as well as a promise to tread carefully.

Vulnerability in Dean Winchester is rarely exposed. It is only granted to little brothers who push for it, baby brothers who never once mock it. 

“It’s… today’s the day where I went looking for you. At Stanford. When Dad went missing, the uh…”

“... Woman in white.”

“Right.”

“I lost Jess when I got back.”

“I know. I’m sorry. Don’t know what the hell I was thinking. Nothing to celebrate about that. Shit.”

“Dean.”

“What?”

“I lost Jess. But I had you back. And it may have taken me awhile to look at it that way, but that night was years ago, man. We’re here. We’re together. I think that _is_ worth celebrating.”

“...You’re such a sap.”

“You’re the one who brought me here.”

“Yeah for the best sleep of your life. These are egyptian cotton sheets.”

Relieved to see the tension leaving his brother’s body, Sam hummed and trailed his fingers appreciatively over the soft cotton sheets. The sheets were just a detour as Sam’s fingers tugged on a cotton shirt, soft by wear and not luxury. 

One sturdy chest pressed against another. Aligning hearts beat in sync. 

Years had passed. The ache of losing Jessica was now dull instead of a flaring pain. It was nothing compared to what Sam felt when he cupped the back of his brother’s neck, when his thumb rubbed circles over the skin, lingering on a tiny scar and realized that he could have this now.

After everything they faced; they were both still here. Practically snuggling (though Dean would reject that term) like a couple of teenagers in a high-end mattress.

It was enough to make Sam’s head spin

“Can the best sleep of my life be after we fuck?”

“Thought you weren’t letting me near your ass for a week.”

“I’d hate to waste these sheets, Dean. Besides…

“Mhm?”

“Today’s a special occasion.”

  
  



End file.
